


An Exploration of Character

by melpomeni_mandy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hope, Identity Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 10:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 16,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melpomeni_mandy/pseuds/melpomeni_mandy
Summary: This is a collection of short drabbles of writing for Ahlis Ildilayan written for the FFXIVWrite2017 event on Tumblr. Throughout the month of November each day a writing prompt was given to be used as a basis of the written piece. Each prompt will have its own chapter regardless of length.





	1. Preface

**Chapter Index**

2\. Spectre  
3\. Synthetic  
4\. The Twelve  
5\. Self-editing  
6\. Prank  
7\. Identification  
8\. Broken Leaf  
9\. Shadows  
10\. Linkpearl  
11\. Slap  
12\. Mercy vs. Justice  
13\. Caste  
14\. Wounded Animal  
15\. Wit  
16\. Doppelganger  
17\. Ceruleum  
18\. Fate  
19\. Self-control  
20\. Battle of Wills  
21\. Blending In  
22\. Wind  
23\. Monster  
24\. Standing In Line  
25\. Obsolete  
26\. Sacred  
27\. Foot in Mouth  
28\. Rivalry  
29\. Prophecy  
30\. Frost


	2. Specter

The creature fell to the dust-ridden floor where it twitched for a moment, spasmed, then fell still. Shuffling backward she hit the wall behind her and for the first moment since she came across that thing she had a moment to think and to breathe.

  
She couldn’t get the sounds it made out of her head as her hand gripped tightly to her other arm. The creature–a kind of twisted humanoid-looking specter–had struck her fiercely and the blood that came from her wound soaked the fabric of her sleeve and glove.

  
Ahlis hadn’t expected to cross paths with the literal living dead that stalked the lower levels of the crypt that sat directly underneath the Lochs. She never even knew it existed and rightly so; she had only been a child since she last stepped foot in Gyr Abania, let alone the city of Ala Mhigo and any place close to it.

  
_Focus, damn it_. Ahlis attempted to move her injured arm and, while it hurt like hell, it didn’t seem to be broken or beyond minor movement. She just had to stem the bleeding…somehow. Turning around in her footsteps she looked about her, realizing she had been leaning against the burial shelves of royal Ala Mhigans long since passed. She could not help the small shiver that moved through her at that moment as she saw the old bones and heavily dilapidated shrouds of cloth used to cover them as they rested for all eternity.

  
There would be nothing within the crypt to ease her arm’s suffering and certainly nobody alive to help her. There was only herself, the maze of the underground tunnels, and the dead.

  
She looked back to the unmoving body of the creature where its remains had already begun to deteriorate into the stone and dust.

  
“Get moving Ahlis, and maybe I can find the way I came in without finding more of those things,” she spoke grimly to herself, her voice whisper-soft as she carried herself down the hall she believed she had come traveled down from the surface.


	3. Synthetic

“Y’heard what I said. I don’t want anything put in my mouth.”

  
“That gap will screw up the rest of your teeth you little fool. Is that what you want to do with your gods’ given smile? Many folk here in Ul’dah would pay good gil for what you got.”

  
Ahlis remained sitting in her chair, sullen with fingers wrapped in a wad of cloth that she used to shove into the gaping hole in her jaw where one of her molars used to be.

  
Precious Spinel–family friend, coworker and a captain of the Brass Blades–couldn’t help her exasperation at Ahlis and her stubbornness. She wouldn’t be here if she had followed orders, like she was supposed to. Going after the suspect like that, tackling and getting into a street brawl…damn the girl.

  
“We’ll be getting to your demerits in a minute but let's settle on what to do with your foolish arse and that missing tooth of yours first.”

  
Ahlis straightened up in that moment and shoved the cloth into her mouth, clamping her teeth down to keep it still and hopefully stem the blood. She knew that heavy tone in Precious’s voice to know that she had to pay attention, whether she wanted to or not.

  
“False teeth aren’t hard to come by, now wait and let me finish–they’re not hard to come by. If it’s cost yer worried about I can help.”

 

“I told you, I don’t want anything.”

 

“Are you afraid of it then? Think it’ll hurt more than how your original one was knocked out?”

  
“It’s not that, it’s…I know it won’t feel right. Man-made or not, anything that ain’t mine in there will be off.”

  
“So what, then? You’ll be fine walking around with a hole in your smile, looking like the thugs and beggars that litter Pearl?” Precious scoffed at that, her words making Ahlis grow even more into her discomfort. “So much for doing better than your peers in the city, I guess I was wrong: it’s true you can’t beat the Ala Mhigan out of ‘em.”

  
“Why do you care?” Ahlis finally snapped, and when she glared back at Precious she couldn’t help but feel a measure of shame. “It’s not like it’s your teeth.”

  
“Ah, Ahlis.” Precious smiled then, a simple yet patronizing one. “I care because it’s my duty to care, you are under my supervision by law. Also because I worry for you. You don’t deserve to lower yourself like this. Why did you act that way, and make this happen? You know how others think.”

  
Her words were like the same old weight Ahlis had known for most of her life. Ala Mhigans were worthless, thuggish, always causing riff-raff or some measure of crime in the city. Begging, without any inclination to ‘better themselves’. But she was different, wasn’t she?

  
Precious placed her a hand upon her hip and recited her punishment for Ahlis to bear for her misconduct as a Blade. Additional cleaning and maintenance duties in the mess halls and armory, revoking of patrol privileges and one week without pay. It felt like a rather heavy set of demerits in her mind, but Precious would not play favorites, even for her ward. In that regard, at least, she was fair.

  
“Here,” Ahlis looked to the pouch of gil that was handed to her for a moment before taking it. “Go to the infirmary and get the name of the alchemist we use at the guildhall. They’ll know what to do.”

  
Precious smiled again, firmly and with a nod, and dismissed her.

 

\---

  
Ahlis leisurely left the bath and wrapping her body in a towel she sat at her dresser to comb her hair in front of the mirror. Her tongue absently pressed along the lower part of her jaw and felt the gap that still remained there. It had narrowed in the decade or so since it happened but not much else had changed. No crooked or slanted teeth, no bone or gum rot. Ahlis stared into the mirror, refusing the urge to open her mouth to look at what was missing.

 


	4. The Twelve

There was a gathering of people busily loading a carriage by the chocobo stables at the Gate of Nald. The atmosphere among them was infectious, happy, and eager. It looked to be an entire family getting ready to set off from Ul’dah.

  
“What’s going on over there you think?” Ahlis asked as she patrolled side by side by one of the other Blades she shared her shift with.

  
“Can’t you tell? They have moon daisies decorating everything. They’re newlyweds–or they’re setting off to get hitched, at least.”

  
Ahlis blinked as she looked back towards the gate; final hugs and goodbyes were being shared by those staying behind as the carriage was slowly turning about to leave.

  
“No, I’d never seen a moon daisy…”

  
“It’s Menphina’s flower, and you ought to know who she is at least!”

  
She shrugged lightly at that to which her partner couldn’t help but sigh.

  
“Look, I know you know who the rest of the Twelve are. Just because you don’t pray to any of the others besides Rhalgr–”

“That isn’t true. Not all Ala Mhigans worship him and I know you know that as well.”

  
“Fine, fine. What really gets me is how they already had so many of those flowers, and brought all the way from the Shroud! It must have cost a helluva lot of gil…”

  
“Where do you think they’ll be going?”

  
“For honeymoon? Ah, well, who can say? There isn’t anyplace here I’d go to even on a normal holiday.”

  
“No–I mean, you said they’re going to ‘get hitched’.”

  
“Oh! Well if that be the case the Sanctum probably, but that’s a long way from here. Better off just going to one of the shrines or temples here if you want a religious ceremony if you ask me.”

  
Ahlis went silent as they continued on their designated patrol through the city, her thoughts wandering more than they should have given they were on duty. Her partner must’ve caught sight of her absent-mindedness as he looked over and snapped his fingers near her face which caused her to flinch.

  
“Oi, pay attention Ildilayan. You’re not getting paid to wander are ya?”

“I am paying attention, Krowe. Sheesh…”

  
“Still thinking about that couple?” He smirked then, placing his hands on his hips. “You girls are all the same, always thinking about finding a man and getting married.”

  
She felt the heat rise to her face and her lips quickly twisted into a frown. Krowe laughed, knowing he had riled her, which was exactly what he wanted and Ahlis knew it.

  
“I’m kidding, okay? Just kidding! Ease up a little, would ya?”

  
Ahlis quickened her pace and stepped on ahead, fists clenched to her sides as her arms swayed in her fitful walk towards the guard house where they were stationed to clock in after their shift. She didn’t bother to wait for him, not after that show of insensitivity.

  
_You should be used to it by now_ , Ahlis berated herself as she now found herself in the small sized barracks, tossing her mail boots aside as she sat on her designated bed. But she wasn’t; she never believed she would be.


	5. Self-editing

The pages littered the area around her desk in an ink-stained mess, her hands endlessly ripping them out one by one. She would’ve done so by the handful had the binding not been so sturdy in its make.

  
After having adequately ruined her grimoire she threw the remains of it across the room where it narrowly missed a potted plant and a stack of reference books before colliding with a wall and falling onto the stone floor.

  
Ahlis thought the wanton act of destruction would have stopped the tears of frustration flowing freely from her eyes and yet now, as she stared at the consequences of her now-useless grimoire, they still came and poured down her cheeks. However now instead of the rush of fury that possessed her needy hands to tear and pull apart whatever she could get a hold of, all she felt was numbness. There was no replacing that near-year’s worth of work she had put into such a tome.

  
Why had she attacked the most important possession she had as an arcanist? All that effort, and time, and research…! She took a shaky breath, held it in her lungs for as long moment, and released it.

  
Uncaring that her hands, aching from all the tearing and grasping of parchment she had just finished, were probably covered in ink and dust she rubbed her face dry and began the painful collection of gathering the pages. _Her_ pages, that she painstakingly crafted as she learned the art of arcanima. By the time she finished there was a look of calm resolution upon her face as she placed the stack of crumples pages–the ones that were salvageable, at least–upon her work desk and moved to open one of the drawers.

  
Within it was an empty book, pages fresh and unused thus far. It was to be her next project, her continuation of the work she had already delved so far into with her old grimore, but it seemed now it would become more than that. So much more. Her fingers traced the metal and leather cover briefly before setting it next to the ripped pages.

  
Grabbing her metallic inks, quills and sitting down within her chair, Ahlis went to work.


	6. Prank

It was unacceptable the hour she finally managed to retire at the Rising Stones that evening. Ahlis had the mind to work on her writing before bed or at the very least to do some reading, but as she walked slowly to the door of her room she debated if she would have the energy to accomplish even that.

  
The first order of business before anything else was to light some lamps as the room was dark and unlit. Everything was as it should be, once Ahlis had created enough light in the room and she took a brief look around. Her cloak was discarded and her boots kicked off in the process of moseying over to her small work desk to decide on what, or if, she would attempt anything before giving up and opting to take a bath instead.

  
“That’s strange,” Ahlis murmured to herself at the sight of a new book among her paperwork.

  
She did not recognize it as one of her own and the idea that it had been left for her entered her mind. Picking it up and flipping the cover open to the first few pages she realized it was a collection of poetry. It brought a thoughtful twist to her lips as she began to wonder who would’ve placed it there for her to find…that is, until she actually read some of its contents which immediately made her face turn red hot, nearly causing her to drop the book from her grasp entirely.

  
—

  
“Ah, another day well spent, wouldn’t you agree?” Thancred sat down at one of the tables across from Y’shtola where she had a thoughtful hand to her cheek as she read her own book.

  
“Mmm, quite.”

  
Thancred had a mind to “liberate” one of the finer bottles of wine from behind the counter and to share it with his lovely company when he saw her suddenly looked up. Her ears twitched.

  
“Somebody is coming, and quick,” was all Y’shtola managed to say when Ahlis emerged from the hallway. The sight of her made Y’shtola pause, noting the way her eyes were wide and intense with her jaw hard-set, her lips in a determined, angry line. Her face was pink, flushed almost all the way to her ears as she stood there with fire in her gaze.

  
“You,” Ahlis spoke in a fierce, accusatory voice, her hand holding a book as she thrust it towards him. “You did this.”

  
Thancred was quick to his feet, the moment he dared to move set Ahlis into motion towards him, putting the table between himself and the Warrior of Light.

  
“Wait just a moment–what are you talking about?” He said with all the seriousness he could muster.

  
“Don’t play stupid with me Thancred I know it was you!” Ahlis spoke again, daring the man to try and placate her further.

  
She began to pace around the table to get closer to him and Thancred paced away from Ahlis in turn so that the both of them were circling the piece of furniture. Y’shtola had not a clue as to what this could possibly be about and for the moment said nothing as she watched the two.

  
“Listen to me, I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  
“I’m going to have your head…”

  
“Ahlis, please–”

  
“Hang you up by your feet…”

  
“What are you saying–”

  
“And beat you senseless!”

  
At that the book went flying at Thancred’s face to which he had the good senses (and skill, no doubt) to dodge at such close range. The book flew and clattered against the floor across the room but not before Ahlis proceeded to jump over the table in her attempt to lunge herself at him. He wasted no time in putting as much distance between himself and the raging Warrior of Light as they chased each other away from the table and out of the Rising Stones proper, Thancred unable to hide his shite-eating grin now while Ahlis pursued him.

  
Y’shtola, left shocked and speechless at the display, alone went to retrieve said book that had earned the man such ire in the first place. And as she picked it up and leafed to the beginning she saw a note on the inside cover, penned in none other than his handwriting.

  
_Let these titillating poems serve as inspiration as my image brings you bliss in the night, with naught else but your hands to soothe you, and imagine them as my own. (T.W.)_

  
Y’shtola groaned. Oh, Thancred.


	7. Identification

What did it mean to be Ala Mhigan? Was it where you were born? Was it the traditions, the culture, the habits? Was the heart, or the stomach? Was it in the soul? Was it your faith? Was it all of these things that you carry around inside yourself wherever you go no matter whether you remember your home or not, too young to recall?

  
Or, maybe it was none of these things at all?

  
The night sky was often the place Ahlis directed such questions and thoughts as she mulled over the reality of things that now stood before her: her name and heritage were all distinctly Ala Mhigan, and yet the call to carve herself a home within the city was merely a whisper instead of the clarion call she thought it would become.

  
She could not deny the pride she felt for Lyse, her fellow Scion and Ala Mhigan countrywoman, as she took the role of leadership with as much care and strength as one could given her background lacking in such details. She was growing more comfortable by the day with her new responsibilities and the expectations of her, regardless of how they rubbed her raw. Ahlis had to believe–knew she believed–in the other woman’s capabilities.

  
But whereas Lyse felt her pride for her homeland as well as the need to welcome all Gyr Abanians to the table for leadership, Ahlis did not know where she stood. It seemed her role as the Warrior outweighed any sense of belonging to the new government or to her old home. It was strange to her, and it made her wonder even further if all those years molding herself to squeeze in with the rest of Eorzean society had done irreparable changes to her self-identity.

  
How to speak, how to behave and carry oneself. Every action had an Eorzean way of doing it and an Ala Mhigan way of doing it; Ahlis saw fit to stamp what she could of it out of herself. She shook her head as she fell deeper into such thoughts while sitting in the cool desert air upon one of the high bluffs in the Lochs, her Ishgardian chocobo Ash pestering with what little vegetation he could. The sight of Ala Mhigo stretched out before her, violet and gold banners floating in the wind.

  
She didn’t know what else to do at that time, so young and orphaned and in a city she had never seen before. _I had to survive_ , she had told herself time and time again. When she passed the beggars and the poor in Ul’dah, she told herself that. When she found herself in Limsa Lominsa she told herself the same thing there too. Had it been worth it, at the expense of all she knew?

  
Her arms crossed her chest as her gloved hands gripped her shoulders, her face burrowing into her sleeves. 


	8. Broken Leaf

The old woven basket felt so light in her hands as she swung it around following her mother’s footsteps, her attention more on her surroundings than paying attention to the task at hand. It was a pretty day in the wood nearby their camp, perfect for exploring or playing with some of the other children at the camp, or for sunbathing.

  
“Ahlis, look,” her mother’s voice called out ahead as she beckoned her child to follow her. Ahlis did so immediately, knowing what they had been looking for must have been found. _Finally_!

  
“Yeah, mama?” Ahlis looked at the shrub her mother stopped at, a hand cupping a few of the leaves.

  
“You see these leaves just below the bloom? Look how fresh and full grown they are, and at the top of this bush,” with a deft hand she plucked the healthy leaves from the stem, careful not to destroy them. “You try.”

  
Ahlis attempted to do as her mother instructed, grasping a leaf and mimicking how her mother had done it, only to rip it in half.

  
“Oh…”

  
Maliah sighed a little and tried not to laugh at her child who always did everything so quickly and earnestly.

  
“Careful, love, it must be whole.”

  
“Yes, mama.”

  
“Try again.”

  
Again Ahlis pulled at another leaf, only this time her grip was too weak; she was afraid she’d rip another one all over again.

  
“Come on now, pull it!”

  
With a strong tug the second time around Ahlis managed to pluck the leaf much cleaner than time, despite crumpling it some in hand. But it was whole; a victory. Maliah nodded, encouraged that her daughter could now attempt on her own.

  
“Put as many as you can in your basket, but only reach for the first few leaves at the top of each stem. You understand?”

  
Ahlis nodded, and her mother smiled.

  
“We’ll have good tea for once if we gather enough, but do not wander far.”

  
“I won’t mama!”

  
Determined with their new task of tea leaf gathering, Ahlis set to work on the current bush they found before her mother settled on finding another not too far. Maliah was thankful the weather was so good, and that they had stopped in an area that allowed for such gathering to be had.

  
As she kept an eye on Ahlis, her only child and company, she could believe for a brief and all-too transient moment that life was not so difficult after all.


	9. Shadows

It was a bell before their patrol shift that late afternoon when they met in the alleyway that connected Pearl to the Sapphire Exchange. It was a common meeting place between folks who wanted the lesser chance of somebody catching their conversations, transactions-of-sorts, as well other unsavory things from time to time.

  
But today there was nothing unusual: they met there, under the shadow of a faded and torn awning, when they went to talk and to get away from the rest of the city that rumbled with life continuously moving.

  
Ahlis had gotten there second. Krowe was already waiting for her, sitting atop of one of the abandoned wooden crates that weren’t uncommon in those parts. He didn’t move when she approached, a sigh held within her chest knowing exactly what he’d say to her.

“There you are, Ildilayan. What took you?”

  
“The usual tripe. The sergeant always has something to say the moment I leave the barracks.”

  
“Methinks he likes you,” Krowe said with a smug twist of his mouth. “Least likes watching you leave, anyway.”

  
“Piss off.”

  
At that he laughed, genuinely smiling now and Ahlis simply narrowed her eyes in that knowing way he too had come to enjoy. She took to leaning against one of the alley walls not far from where he sat. Krowe’s laughter died and was replaced with a somber look upon his face. It looked as if he had something worth telling her.

“Out with it Krowe, I know you got something on your mind.”

  
“I’m thinking of ditching this pisshole of a city and taking off on my own.”

  
Now it was Ahlis’s turn to laugh, if only a little. Krowe and his ridiculous ideas, many of which he laughed at as well, but this time there was no laughter, not from him.

  
“I mean it this time, trust me.”

  
“Oh you say that every time, Krowe! How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  
“I put in my resignation this morning, why not ask the sergeant you love to shite on so much?”

  
Ahlis said nothing for a moment as she searched Krowe face for any hint that he was messing with her, or telling some sort of poorly thought out lie.

  
“You really are serious this time.”

  
“Sure am, Hells take this damned city and all the greedy bastards with it!”

  
She didn’t know what to say to his outburst, having never taken Krowe’s word for truth before. He had lamented his life before, like many who worked the Brass Blades but didn’t opt into the ‘benefits’ one could make if they turned an eye to certain happenings. They both knew the corruption went far, and deep. But somehow, together, they kept their heads above the water.

  
“Come with me.”

  
His voice was low, but steady. Firm in his request to her. Ahlis raised her eyebrows.

  
“What are you saying?”

  
“I’m saying for us to get the hells on out of here, is what. It’ll eat out our souls, until nothing is left. Do you want that? To be a slave to the pittance of coin we get?”

  
Krowe turned his eyes to her and they bore into her in a way that made her feel pushed against a corner with little way out. Ahlis slowly shook her head at him in refusal.

  
“No–I can’t just go.”

  
“And why not? We’ve always done everything together, ever since you joined the Blades. C'mon, you’d miss me too much!”

  
Ahlis could see him trying to work some measure of charm and at that Ahlis pushed herself off the wall, a finger pointed directly at him. It wasn’t going to work, not like this.

  
“You think I want to be even poorer than I am now? Are you mad? Destitute and living in a hole in a rock out in the desert somewhere? Or wandering about like I used to do? The hells with that.”

  
“It won’t be the same, I promise you that,” Krowe spoke forcefully as he moved off the top of the crate and attempted to reach for Ahlis then. “I know you had it bad back then, a lot of the refugees did, but you and I…we can’t stay here. There’s no future.”  
His hand gently touched her shoulder, a gesture Ahlis immediately shied away from, unconvinced.

  
“I’m not leaving, Krowe. I’m sorry. I know how you feel, but…I can’t.”

  
She turned away from him at that moment, then, he struck. Ahlis found herself grabbed from behind and pushed against the wall as he moved to overpower her. Her cheek rubbed raw against the rough plaster and stone of the masonry as he pushed himself against her, hands upon her neck.

  
“You have no idea how I feel,” his voice was furious and low as he growled into her ear. She could feel the heat from his breath. “How long I had to wait, hoping for something better…something I could call my own!”

  
The next few moments occurred in a blur, and at the end of it Krowe found himself on the ground, curled up as he clutched his abdomen, the sounds of pounding footsteps disappearing in their wake.


	10. Linkpearl

She awoke deep in the night, nestled in her bedroll and under blankets that felt far too stifling. She felt paralyzed, numb and the beating of her heart was pounding away in her chest as the anxiety of her nightmare passed in an achingly slow manner.

  
When Ahlis finally felt she had enough of her normal faculties again to move she painfully turned over and accidentally nudged the person beside her; it made her remember who was there with her inside the tent.

  
Alphinaud remained asleep despite her moving about, the only sound in the darkness besides the occasional call of a night bird being his deep, undisturbed breathing. It was a comfort too small to bring her true peace, the nights where she awoke due to her poor dreams stirred in her a want for soothing that none there could provide. Ahlis slowly sat up and gave her companion one last look before she carefully slid herself from under the warm blankets and out of the tent to meet the cool air of the evening world.

  
The first sight to greet her was the embers in the fire pit long since grown cold, but the near-full moon among the endless stars was out that night and everything appeared alight under its silvery glow. The grass under her toes was cool but not yet touched with dew as she carefully led her steps with the balls of her feet as she walked to shake out the last remaining jitters from her dreams.

  
She could never remember what they were about; it didn’t matter. They did their job in seeping into her bones with the oppressive weight of fear. There may have been smoke, fire, ash…voices she couldn’t even begin to place them to people who were still alive, or dead. And when she woke from them she left incredibly alone; that was perhaps the worst of it. It was an ache so terrible she dared not admit it to anyone.

  
Her hand moved to her wrist where the latest addition to her jewels was a silver chain bracelet that hung loosely to her arm, just below the cuff she always kept clasped on. It had a single locket charm, a sort of cage or cut-out design that allowed for the storage of a picture, a lock of hair, or a gem. Ahlis pulled her wrist closer and knew she ought not touch the linkpearl that was nestled inside.

  
_He won’t answer_ , she scolded herself, knowing with near certainty that it would be true. Even if he accepted the other pearl that matched her own, even if he told her that she could reach him whenever it was necessary…

  
Was that night necessary enough?

  
The linkpearl was taken and placed into her ear; she tapped it to activate the connection. She waited for a moment, then another, and another.

  
_You’re such an idiot_. She cursed herself and hooked her finger back around the pearl to pull it out of her ear when she heard a click. The connection was clear despite the softness of the voice on the other end, malms and malms away.

  
“I’m here, Ahlis.”


	11. Slap

_Whap!_

  
“It was the perfect trap, kupo! And you messed it up!”

  
_Whap!_

  
“It would have worked if you said the right secret cue, kupo!”

  
Ahlis stood there and swore she was losing her intellect the more she wasted her time staring at the two mischievous moogles that were busy slapping each other over a busted prank. She wondered what would decay faster: her mind, or her patience, now that she had to deal with these two insufferable floating balls of fluff.

  
“You’re both wrong.” Ahlis said flatly and the two moogles took a moment to turn their wobbling pom’d heads towards her. “If you think kupo nuts are going to attract anything else besides your own furry arses–”

  
One of the moogles (the one to the left of her, as she hadn’t bothered to ask either of their forgettable names) flailed while in midair, as if flabbergasted that she could say such a thing.

  
“Kupo nuts are the best things ever, kupo!”

  
“Yeah, kupo! How could you resist?” The moogle on her right now chimed in, also quite flummoxed that Ahlis would dare question their logic.

  
“It doesn’t matter now, kupo,” the left side moogle lamented, the pom upon his head canting forward in lament. “Our plan failed. We were going to be the best pranksters ever too, kupo!”

  
“Hardly.” Ahlis said in the same, unimpressed voice.

  
“We were!” The moogle retaliated, arms flailing once more. “To catch the Warrior of Light with our best of pranks! We would known forever among moogle-kind, kupo!”

  
The right-most moogle floated closer to his companion and tried to soothe them.

  
“There, there, kupo. We’ll get them next time…”

  
This was becoming ridiculous, especially since they were now talking as if she wasn’t even there!

  
“Try saying one more time, you nitwits!”

  
At that the two moogles were startled and immediately they flew up and away, seeing that Ahlis now was brandishing her fist. But as soon as he ire flared it quickly dissipated with a sigh.

  
Moogles. It was times like these could remember why others detested them so. A certain dragoon suddenly came to mind and she smiled. This could make for a funny, if not irritating, story to tell in the future.


	12. Mercy vs. Justice

“You’ve played this plenty before, right?”

  
“I’ve played it some.”

  
“How good would you say you are?”

  
Alyx shrugged at the question as she watched Ahlis set up the game board, sitting across from her at the the small table within the tavern of the Rising Stones meant for such things.

  
“I’d say I’m fair at it.”

  
Ahlis looked up from the stack of cards she pulled from the container in preparation to deal them out. Her stare was quite the serious one.

  
“That may not be good enough.”

  
“You sound as if you’re preparing to go to war.”

  
“I am! In a certain way, at least.”

  
Alyx leaned back in her chair as she crossed her arms. It was a curious matter now, considering she hadn’t thought much of taking Ahlis’s offer to play some Triple Triad. Now it seemed it wasn’t a mere avoidance of boredom, but instead it would be a training exercise.

  
“If you’re thinking of trying to win a fortune at the Gold Saucer by playing a card game I’d hate to be the one to tell you otherwise but you could spend a lifetime doing that and be poorer than the poorest pauper in Ul’dah.”

  
“No, no!” Ahlis waved her off as if her idea was completely ridiculous. “I’m not after fortune and glory in Triple Triad.”

  
Ahlis paused a moment in dealing out the cards from the deck as she looked Alyx square in the eye. Her gaze was rather intense, too intense for a mere game of cards.

  
“I am doing this for justice.”

  
She wasn’t sure if it was the way Ahlis said it, mixed with how serious she was over this entire situation, but Alyx needed a moment to laugh at her friend. She could be so fierce and excessive over the strangest things.

  
“Go ahead and laugh it up, you don’t know the whole story anyway.”

  
Ahlis waited for Alyx to finish with her little laughing fit to continue, her expression set with her mouth in a hard line.

  
“No, I don’t. Care to elaborate?”

  
Ahlis looked back down to her card deck and picked out a number of cards, some more rare than others as she created stacks for the both of them.

  
“Did you know Aymeric also plays?”

  
At that Alyx didn’t know immediately what to say; her silence told all Ahlis needed to know.

  
“I take it that you did not. I’m not surprised. He said it was one of his ‘little known talents’. When he told me I knew I had to challenge him.”

  
“You challenged Aymeric to a game of Triple Triad?” Alyx almost couldn’t believe that was a sentence she just uttered.

  
“It was a set of three games: whoever won two of them out of the three was the victor.”

  
“What happened?”

  
Ahlis looked up at her friend again with an obvious look.

  
“I lost. That man…he, trounced me.”

  
Alyx could tell Ahlis desperately wished to elaborate on just how ‘that man’ must have made her feel that day as she went home with her proverbial Triple Triad tail between her legs.

  
“The worst of it all was when he refused to take my cards that he won! Can you believe it?” Ahlis huffed through her nose at that, as if recalling the anger she felt after their matches together. “He wanted to spare me, called it ‘just practice’. Well! He will learn I am a worthy opponent and that he should have treated me fairly.”

  
Ahlis had kept her eyes on the board as she finished dealing the cards out between them, ten in all.

  
“Let’s practice the ascension and decension rule set first.”

  
“Ahlis.”

  
Alyx saw the look in her friend’s eyes the moment she looked up once more and knew Ahlis was determined in this endeavor; the words died then and there. Alyx sighed.

  
_It’s just a game._

  
“…Alright. If you’re serious about this then I am not the one to do this with,” Alyx thought for a brief moment as the gears in her head turned, before her expression brightened and her lips twisted into a knowing smirk.

  
“Let’s go find Tataru.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alyx Vance belongs to erhwrites & was written here with permission.


	13. Caste

Her bookshelves were collecting dust again. Being away from her Limsan flat for weeks at a time was taking its toll on her poor sinuses despite cracking the window in her flat out of its casement to allow the staled air to breathe and to take the dust with it.

  
Some of these books were old, at least a few decades older than herself as she casually leafed through their bindings while she slowly re-shelved them. Some were even gifts from the Ossuary in Ul’dah, the keepers of their library recognizing her talent as well as her itch to learn.

  
_‘Don’t worry about that volume. We have half a dozen of that edition already,’_ she vaguely remembered being told during one of those typical bouts of intense studying that made the afternoons pass in a blink of an eye. Ahlis looked down the tome in question within her grasp, recognizing the embossed lettering. It was a small book, with a dark colored binding that was well worn along the corners.

  
It was an abridged text of Ul’dahn history, some of which stretched back as far as the Sixth Umbral Calamity. It was the first time she learned of the ancient civilization of the Mhachi–the first she could recall, at the very least–which sent her along an eager, but an almost abrupt ending to her curiosity. There was almost nothing written remaining about the city of Mhach, the history of their void magic and the mages who used such power. At least, not within the texts the thaumaturgy guild possessed that were open to the usual members and visitors…

  
Ahlis shelved the volume as she remembered how her curiosity even made her dare to risk sneaking into the areas of the Ossuary that were under lock and key. All for the sake of ‘knowledge’, as it were. Mhachi voidmages were the most revered members of Mhachi society, within their own echelon of importance and power. And they nearly destroyed everything.

  
As she continued to put her books away the cuff on her arm caught the light that gently filled her room. Her eye caught the way the dark gem held a muted purple glow as it rested within the band like a jeweled cabochon, the light hitting its surface to be absorbed into its inky depths.

  
She ought to visit the Ossuary again soon, Ahlis thought casually to herself. There was nothing to worry about any longer.


	14. Wounded Animal

When one of the novices asked the question if carbuncles felt pain when they were injured a few fellow students laughed. Some slightly giggled and others couldn’t help their amused and pitiable smiles. Ahlis looked about at the students gathered and they were effectively silenced.

  
“A simple question and yet not the first time it has been asked,” she spoke plainly. “Carbuncles, like other simple aetherial beings summoned and kept under our command do not have as many of the sensory capacities that we do on this plane.”

  
Ahlis slowly paced before the group of novices and the majority of them listened as she explained the nature of aether, how it was manipulated and how the very shape and image of the creature took form due their summoning power and grasp of the art.  
“We as summoners must exert our control effectively over our carbuncles, or else they can run wild and do as they please. Seeing this behavior may make you think they possess free will.”

  
At that, Ahlis retrieved her own grimoire from her hip and one quick incantation later, her emerald carbuncle flashed into existence. The creature stood there, poised and ready, sparkling with aether…until Ahlis raised her foot and kicked it part way across the room.

  
One of the students shrieked at the sight, some gasped and many eyes widened at the display. The image of seeing the creature so viciously kicked in such a way was too reminiscent of…

  
“I know what some of you are thinking right now: how could I do such a thing? To intentionally hurt a “defenseless” being?”

  
The carbuncle had since gotten up from where it had fallen and trotted back over her to, expressionless and none worse for wear. Ahlis knelt before it and touched its forehead affectionately. The creature responded simply, recognizing her touch but did not flinch or behave defensively. For all intents and purpose it was as if the act hadn’t even happened.

  
“Let this lesson be clear: corporeality is fluid and does not always translate to true sentience. It is your responsibility to guide, sustain and control your carbuncle, despite its simplicity. Or else it is useless to you. It is nothing more than a tool.”

  
Ahlis rose from where she was, the discomforting air from just moments ago still lingering. Her eyes, steely in their countenance, watched the novices as they stood before her.

  
“Any more questions?”


	15. Wit

It happened again.

  
There was yelling, furniture scrapping the stone floors as chairs were pushed and arguing filled the whole small corner of Rising Stones while visitor and Scion alike watched the spectacle unfolding. And at the center of it all was, naturally, Thancred.  
Somehow all of this seemed so remarkably familiar.

  
This time however the man was able to use his ‘suave’ nature to greater effect in reaching a kind of truce (if it could even be called that) while he guided the ladies back to the front of their headquarters and away from prying eyes and ears. Nobody else needed to interfere, and there was certainly no need to employ the use of any protocols in place to remove any riff-raff inside the establishment.

  
When Thancred eventually returned he visibly released a sigh and allowed his shoulders to droop from the tension he no doubt had been holding onto. Most of the others had dispersed by that point, aside from Ahlis, Y’shtola, and Tataru who was still minding the ledger.

  
Y’shtola barely spared him a glance as he approached closer, a stark contrast to the way Ahlis couldn’t hide her mild seething at seeing him again. It made Thancred chuckle; her ire was becoming the stuff of legends and yet it was quite a different experience when it simmered deep in those bright gray eyes of hers, as if ready to snap at any moment.

  
“Come now, it was at the very least mildly humorous!” He spoke finally.

  
“Always taking the frustrations and tears of young maidens with stride, I see.” Y’shtola replied, sounding rather unimpressed yet absolutely not surprised.

  
“You wound me, Y’shtola. Believe it or not I do care about the well-being of my admirers,” Thancred said in turn, looking back to Ahlis finally. He could see her expression had changed very little, her eyes still scathing.

  
“I find your sense of humor lacking, Ahlis. Would it kill you crack a smile every now and again?”

  
She adjusted herself in the chair she sat herself in at the counter in order to face him fully, her expression shifting from pure displeasure to haughty in her regard of him.

“It’s not my fault I don’t find you witty or charming. You try too hard.”

  
Y’shtola turned away a touch then, probably to hide the slightly amused smirk that crossed her face. Thancred had to hand it to the Warrior of Light: she didn’t hold back any punches when it came to voicing her opinions on something or someone.

  
_Gods forbid anybody else return the favor_ , he thought to himself and knowing better than to voice it aloud. There had been enough womanly drama that day, even he could see that.


	16. Doppelganger

She remembered the day when she found the crystal. There was no way she could forget it.

  
She remembered the way she looked at her reflection in the old mirror in her room. Bright-faced, hair pulled back into a low ponytail, a scarf wrapped ‘round her head to ward against the sun. It would be a day of exploration and adventure by means of catching a merchant cart and following the roads through southern Thanalan, almost all the way to Little Ala Mhigo, but she would stop before reaching such a crossroads.

  
_‘Are ye sure you wanna get off here? There’s bandits in these parts!’ Ahlis recalled the cart driver warning her as she hopped off the front seat. She was alone and he had been right to worry for her safety, but in her naive youth she assured him that she would be fine. After all, she was a part of the thaumaturge guild, with a staff to prove it!_

  
_So the merchant let her be and continued onward, and Ahlis marched in the directions she was told some rumors of old ruins were half buried and still standing despite the harsh climate of the desert._

  
_What a fool I was_ , Ahlis thought to herself as she twisted the cuff around her wrist. She was in a new dwelling now, malms and malms away from Ul’dah and all of Thanalan, as she recalled that day and her memories carried her along in remembrance.

  
_She had been discovered by a beastman, one of the amalj’aa from a nearby tribe Ahlis surmised, as she curiously sifted through the debris of the ruined city. The ruins had been true after all, however as the amalj’aa threatened her with staff and spell, she had no right to set foot there._

  
_‘We’ll see about that!’ She yelled at the beastman before hurdling a spell of fire upon them. That had been her first mistake._

  
_Spells flew between them and quickly Ahlis found herself running for her life. The air crackled with powerfully aspected aether, a kind of magic she hadn’t touched before. She witnessed violent currents of dark power that leaped from the amalj’aa’s staff, a mere tendril of it had gotten too close for comfort and it shocked her so terribly she believed her insides would burst into flames._

  
_The spell sent her to the ground and she struggled to recuperate. Even now as she relived her memory of the encounter it still made her gut grow cold, remembering her fear. It was the closest she had ever felt towards death in all of her short life._

  
Ahlis opened her eyes from her short respite as she sat at her dresser where she brushed her long hair to soft perfection. Clearly, she hadn’t died that day. Or, in truth, maybe a part of her did.

  
_The amalj’aa spellcaster certainly met his end: in his vigor to kill her he had not paid much thought to how his spells affected the landscape of the ruins and, inadvertently, he was crushed under the falling rock of an ancient pillar. A careless mistake._

  
That was how it all started, wasn’t it? Finding the crystal upon the beastman’s corpse, luckily unscathed by the tumbled rock. Ahlis held that bloodied stone in her hands, gasping, aching, but alive.

  
_The girl that had returned from her journey into the ruins was not the same one that had left. Her face was the same, dirtied and ruddy from the sun, but there was something within that Ahlis did not recognize as she stared into the tarnished mirror of her shared Ul’dahn apartment._

  
Her innocence with magic died that day in the sands of those ruins. What happened to that girl in the glass? Where is she now?

  
Ahlis looked to the gem on her wrist; dark, inert, powerful. The same awe and wonder that swirled with her adrenaline on that day could still be felt. She was still there, deep within her heart. The admirer, the opportunist, too inexperienced to bear the mantle of the Black.

  
“It fits much better now, doesn’t it.” She spoke to her reflection, an understanding that was all too bittersweet.


	17. Ceruleum

“What if I told you I wanted to design an airship?”

  
Cid regarded Ahlis for a moment, the latest schematic for another flier prototype Biggs and Wedge had been tossing around temporarily forgotten.

  
“You never struck me as the type Ahlis, but, I’m listening…”

  
She smiled and shrugged a little, apparently in agreement with him.

  
“I’m not, but I do have some ideas. It’s about the Manacutter.”

  
Cid walked over to his work bench to set the plans in his grasp to the side, Ahlis following right behind. He also called for Biggs and Wedge to join them, considering the obvious necessity of their involvement.

  
“Well let’s hear it, although it may have to wait. We’re in the middle of relocating and as it stands any actual building will have to be put on hold.”

  
“This won’t be a high priority sort of thing. It’s more of a…side project.”

  
Biggs and Wedge took a moment to look over to each other.

  
“I was thinking of expanding the Manacutter’s design, specifically for longer distance travel…”

  
The discussion carried on for some time as Ahlis explained her desire for an expanded cabin, more compartment space for storage and items. It was to be an explorer’s ship as opposed to the fast little darter the manacutter had been designed to do.  
“The corrupted crystal propulsion system just won’t work on that scale…the ship will be too big for it.” Biggs explained.

  
“Then a ceruleum engine will have to be used,” Cid interjected. “It’s doable, but it won’t be very large and its capacity will be minimal. That will affect the distance you’ll be able to go…not to mention you’ll be forced to deal with refueling.”

  
“How efficient can we make a small-sized ceruleum engine be?” Ahlis asked, her knowledge on such tech rather lacking.

  
“They’re already pretty efficient as they can be, given the amount of energy the ceruleum contains. You’re restricted to the size of your engine, in a sense…” Cid continued.

  
“And you don’t want a giant ship, either! We’d have to start from scratch doing that instead of expanding the manacutter’s frame and replacing the entire engine block.” Wedge chimed in.

  
Ahlis wasn’t liking the sounds of this; it seemed her idea of a simple change-here-and-there was growing into a more momentous task. Her expression must have given her away as Cid couldn’t help but smile at seeing her frustration.

  
“This is a day in the life for us engineers, we’ll find a solution Ahlis,” he assured her. “Although…wouldn’t you rather test fly some of the other fliers we have planned? They may suit your needs as well.”

  
It was something to consider. Ahlis put a hand to her chin as she contemplated it. It would take months for them to construct one of their new miniature airships. And the manacutter was already air-worthy.

  
“I suppose we shall see…but let’s try what we can on the original.”

  
Cid nodded and looked to his fellow Ironworks colleagues.

  
“Let’s get that ship in here and see if we can spread her wings a little more.”


	18. Fate

The sun had set and the sky shifted into a deep blue by the time she reached the Greensward. The stars were filling the sky as she parked her manacutter to anchor by some cracked pillars near the moment she deigned to visit.

  
The statue, called The Mother of the Sheave, was perhaps the most serene of all the old ruins still standing aside from Zenith…but Ahlis did not wish to go there for the purpose that brought her there in the first place.

  
Too many memories.

  
There, at the base of the impressive statue of a woman with hands clasped and wings tucked behind a long veil that adorned her head, Ahlis placed a bouquet of blue lilies. She took a few steps back and stretched her neck back as far as she could, but at such a height the face could not be seen. She did not need to witness the stone woman’ face however, for she knew who it meant to represent.

  
“It wasn’t fair,” Ahlis said to no one, as she was the only soul in the vicinity. There was only the wind, the stray lightning sprite, or cloud avis that wandered those floating islands.

  
“Was it, Ysyale?”

  
The petals of the flowers swayed a little in the breeze from where they lay, wrapped in thin gifting paper. Ahlis did not struggle when it came to picking a bouquet in memory of her companion. The blue color of those flowers immediately reminded her of the woman, the ‘Lady Iceheart’, with its striking hue that automatically attributed to their beauty.

  
Taking a seat for a moment she crossed her legs and began to wonder, something she rarely could afford, or wish, to do. It took her to dark places in her mind, places she knew existed and that she ought to go, if anything to never forget.

  
“I suppose I can’t complain really, considering it was your choice after all…”

  
Ahlis didn’t know how it had happened, how the woman managed to convince the great wyrm, Hraesvelgr, to bear Ysayle upon his back only to watch her plummet through the air in order to summon her primal armor once more. All for the sake of buying their assaulted airship a few precious moments to land safely at Azys Lla instead of crashing into a million charred pieces. And as she and the rest of her companions were saved so too did Ysayle end her life.

  
That was what Ahlis could not fathom. That Ysayle, who wished for nothing more than peace and to unmask the lies of the Holy See, would sacrifice herself so willingly. How could she have gone through with it?

  
There had to have been another way. There had to have been. Yet…what did it matter now. The choices were made, and the woman who wished for no child to ever suffer as she had, sealed her fate.

  
Ahlis had tried to find understanding in the days that followed, much like the others who regretted her loss. But she always came up empty; she would never know what her fellow Chosen convinced herself of taking the path that would lead to her death. Ahlis shivered in her seat, feeling the wind had gotten considerably colder since she arrived. No light remained in the sky as she looked up at the stars scattered across the heavens.

  
Slowly she rose from the cold, worn stone and took a final look to the flowers she had placed in her friend’s name. Had Ysayle ever been happy, Ahlis wanted to know. There was so much she hadn’t a chance to learn, to share about either of themselves in the brief span of time their paths had crossed. If only things had happened differently.

  
If only.


	19. Self-control

Ul’dah sat like a glittering jewel in the evening sky as Ahlis circled around an uneven path cut into a cliff side, a bag slung over her shoulder. The way was not too treacherous if one knew how to mind one’s footing and paid attention, especially in the night, but she had gone this way before numerous times now and it had almost become second nature.

  
At the end of the path it opened up to a small opening to a wide-mouthed cave. It was shallow and uninhabited, the smell of incense within keeping beast and other vermin away. Ahlis tended to the stones in the center, patting away some of the ashes to make room for new kindling and wood for a fire, and when the sticks began to burn strong and hot she removed her clothing until she was in nothing but her smallclothes.

  
The desert nights could be cool but the flames kept her warm despite being almost naked as she sat upon the cushioned mat she brought along with her. Ul’dah was no longer visible from where she was as she looked out from the mouth of the cave, but the numerous stars within Thanalan’s sky kept watch from above.

  
She closed her eyes and focused on the fire, feeling its warmth touch her skin. She held onto such sensations as she fell into a meditative state. Breathing controlled, her mind slowly releasing the thoughts she had held onto ever since arriving there. The faraway bird call and the chirping of night time insects faded into the background until she had reached a stillness within herself that allowed for nothing else besides the flames crackling and dancing before her.

  
Ahlis opened her eyes and slowly her arms rose up from where she rested them upon her knees, hands open and fingers curling as if attempting to reach for the fire itself. Aether flowed about her body and from her limbs the fire beckoned to her call, twisting and joining into her hands in a woven aura of astral fire. Keeping her mind on the flames Ahlis rose to her feet and stood where she was for a moment before she drew her staff from her back, the swirl of flame and aether intensifying around her body as she began to move with practiced form about the fire pit.

  
It was a dance of precision, of practicing the balance between weaving a spell of pure aether and fire, the gift that made all channeled spells more potent and imbued with power. Her weapon spun in her hands, much like the spinning orb of flame did as well, soon joined by another, and then one more as Ahlis furthered her weaving of such a spell, her concentration never breaking.

  
Self control was necessary to keep such a boon present at all times when in the throws of battle; it was a lesson she took very much to heart in her tutelage of thaumaturgy. She desired to be powerful and fierce in her art, the dancing and practicing of her balancing act enforced discipline. It had been an act of her own creation and one that served her own needs well. Merging her new skills as a mage that would become her future with a dance of her Ala Mhigan heritage that came from her past…it had only seemed fitting.

  
Ten circles, slow and purposeful around the fire pit were made until Ahlis dispersed her aura of astral fire and allowed it to dissipate, the flames in the center reacting and bursting in one final gush of hot sparks before calming once more. She could feel the power ebb from her body and mortal sensations began to return to her: hands and fingers pulsing, the way the sweat from her exertion coursed down her skin from her neck and down her belly and back, and the grittiness of the sand beneath her feet.

  
Outside the cave the crickets still chirped, and the stars moved across the sky in watchful silence.


	20. Battle of Wills

It was a breezy, early summer morning that Ahlis ventured out of Limsa Lominsa. Adorned in a wide brimmed hat and her fishing tackle she traversed to Lower La Noscea to try a hand at catching some river fish.

  
If she had a friend with a sizable boat she’d have tried her luck in the bay somewhere for kicks, but everyone started simple and being a novice fisherwoman it was best to set her sights smaller.

  
The Rogue River would suit her needs perfectly.

  
Finding a nice slab of rock to situate herself upon, Ahlis set her tackle to the side and prepared her rod for some bait suitable for freshwater fishes found in those parts. Once the hook was ready to casting she released the line and watched the bobber _plop!_ into the water, peacefuly waiting until something came along and…

  
“Oh!”

  
Ahlis blinked and felt the tug on her line after only a few minutes of waiting. That was record timing, never had she been so lucky on her first cast. She pulled back on the rod and began to reel her fishing line in until all the slack was gone, and then she started to slowly bring in the final stretch of line, hopefully with her catch in tow.

  
It was going well, Ahlis realized with a satisfied and determined smile on her face. If the rest of the day’s fishing went so good she’d have enough fish to cook and salt for storage for a couple weeks.

  
Then there was a hard yank on her line that almost pulled her rod clear out of her hands. She grasped it much tighter this time and suddenly found herself fighting to make her catch surface. The rod was bending and in a blink of an eye what seemed so assured was suddenly a battle of determination and will. Ahlis didn’t understand, and with a final pull that made her throw her whole back into it the fish arose from the water–and on the other end was a nasty pugil thrashing on her line!

  
It must have eaten the original catch, bait and all! Ahlis stared wide-eyed at the newfound discovery only to watch her rod crack under the stress of the creature’s strength.

  
“You godsdamned–ugh!”

  
Ahlis was flung back back, the rod finally snapping, and the pugil disappeared into the depths of the river. She pushed herself back up and looked down to the water, seeing nothing left of her bobber, the other half of her rod, and certainly no catch.

  
Anger possessed her at that moment and she discarded her broken fishing poll, now utterly useless, before tossing a well-sized spell of explosive fire into the river itself. The water boiled and splashed upward into a large pillar before crashing back down to slosh against the narrow channel. A fine rain of river water misted down…along with the bodies of a few semi-charred freshwater fish. One smacked her atop of her head to boot; Ahlis sighed.

  
Well, it wasn’t quite fishing. But it would do.


	21. Blending In

The name couldn’t be helped. Nor could her height; she had hit her growth spurt early and stood tall against her other hyur peers, especially against what few midlanders there were. Her skin nurtured a healthy tan, common for highlanders from the east.

  
Upon arrival in Ul’dah she looked very much the kind of Ala Mhigan common in those parts: swarthy and poorer than dirt. When meant she was practically worth nothing.

  
But Ahlis was worth more than nothing. Fate, or luck, or circumstance had given her a path to worthiness: a way to survive. And she used it gladly: with each step upon the path of becoming a citizen of worth in Ul’dah more and more of herself peeled away.

  
Her hair grew out; no more scraggly and uneven chopped strands that itched her cheeks. The braids were removed, and so were the beads woven with them.

  
Ul’dahn styles of dress and fabrics for her clothing replaced the commoner tunics and embossed leathers she had grown familiar with.

  
Her dialect changed. No more would she speak like a codger from the middle of nowhere. She would enunciate and pronounce efficiently, pleasant to the ears of the sophisticate.   
She would learn manners, and customs, and laws. She would obey her betters. She would earn her own money as well.

  
She would become a beauty, a learned woman. Ahlis would blossom unlike so many of the unfortunates, the untouchables.

  
And certainly unlike an Ala Mhigan.


	22. Wind

Her hair whipped about her face as she stood near the edge of the floating body of rock. It was an amazing view, as well as a terrifying one. But she did not allow her fear to chase away the desire to see how the thin wispy clouds, so far away, look as if a sea made of smoke, swirling and made alive.

  
On days like these she wished she had wings. Airships were all well and good; her manacutter could slice through almost any wind or turbulence, but to fly completely unaided? Perhaps that would kill her fear of falling, or the extreme heights the Sea of Clouds was known for.

  
“Ahlis!” A voice called up to her from below. She looked down to see a familiar man not dressed in his equally familiar colors of blue and gold. His hair had been made wild by the gusts as well, dark curls pulled and dancing against his cheeks and forehead. It was a pleasing sight, an unusual one, to see him look so ordinary and free.

  
She smiled down to him from her perch, giving a small wave, as if her fear in the back of her mind had suddenly disappeared. The island which she scaled up on her own was too terribly high above the one her companion was standing upon but it was enough to where a jump from said height would easily injure, such a broken bone or three.

  
Suddenly from nowhere she extended her arms out to the sides of her body, as if she was about to somehow take flight, before crying out to him down below.

  
“Catch me!”

  
The sight alone upon his face was enough to make her poor joke worth it. Ahlis laughed at the sight, even after his look of shock dissipated. She left the edge of the small island and slowly made her way back down the floating rock face, letting go from the base to make the much safer drop to her feet.

  
“I am not amused, Ahlis.” Aymeric said when she finally approached him after having caught up to his large strides as he walked away. She could sense the undercurrent of displeasure in his tone despite how he managed to keep his voice leveled.

  
“You’re no fun, Aymeric.” Ahlis replied, apparently unfazed.

  
“You know I would have tried to catch you had you truly jumped.”

  
“Of course, which is why I didn’t. Come now…don’t be so put out.”

  
He stopped suddenly and turned around to face her, making Ahlis abruptly step back to avoid colliding into him. His expression was like a stone and it made her catch her breath, dissipating any remaining amusement she still might’ve felt.

  
“Do not do anything like that again,” he spoke carefully, now unable to keep the entirety of his emotion removed from his voice. “Please.”

  
Guilty, Ahlis sighed through her nose and gave a nod of her chin. The words ‘I’m sorry’ were spoken to his turned back as he walked away again but they were lost, taken into the air by the wind.


	23. Monster

Ahlis couldn’t remember another time where she felt so numb from crying.

  
Mother was nowhere to be found. She should have returned by now from her excursion to hunt. The others with whom they made camp with had seen her leave but to parts unknown.

  
_"She’ll return, she may have gone a longer distance than usual, aye?"_ They tried to soothe her worry but to no avail.

  
_“Please!”_ She remembered begging, a heavy premonition sinking deep in her gut. Ahlis could not ignore it.

  
She left the camp behind, taking her pack, her knife and a water bladder. She was a good hiker now, the mountains becoming a climate she had adapted to in the years they traversed them after the fall. They tried to stop her and call her to return but nothing worked; one man even attempted to follow so not to let her go alone but she quickly outstripped his pace and disappeared.

  
The lowlands never felt too dangerous to her in the daytime, but the sun was already in the other half of the sky. As empty of contact and settlement it felt she knew better than that, as did her own mother. Hence it was with due haste she made her way to Owl’s Nest in search for aid.

  
The hamlet was small, but decently developed, with residents as well as knights from Ishgard frequenting the place on a semi-regular basis. It was them she sought to find; after all it was their duty to aid others, was it not?   
“Oh, the barbarian girl wishes to find her mother, is that it?”

  
Ahlis could feel her stomach drop like a stone the moment she heard the knight’s retort as he approached. She was reaching out to anyone in the hamlet to help her as she described her mother’s appearance, over and over again, to see if maybe she had come through the tunnel and reached Owl’s Nest.

  
“Please…you’ll help, won’t you?” Ahlis bit back her pride and fear for the man as he stood there in his armor. She could hardly see his eyes from where she stood to look upon his helmeted face.

  
“Do we look like we can spare any of our time to play hide-and-seek?” The knight spoke to her coldly, seemingly unaffected by her pleas. “As if we’d waste our time searching for some lone foreign woman in the wilderness. We have enough to contend with without your kind coming to beg for something, now off with you!”

  
“But she is my mother!” Ahlis said in turn, unrelenting.

  
“And the unbeliever is not to be given succor. That is the law. Now begone, lest you truly wish for suffering.”

  
“And you’re just a coward!”

  
The words left her mouth without thinking. Her face had turned red from anger and the shame of being treated lesser than, simply for who and what she was, only to realize too late that in doing so she had most certainly crossed a precipitous line.

  
A hand struck her across the face, the knight’s gauntlet made of durable Ishgardian steel cutting into her face and making her cheek and lip bleed. Ahlis hit the muddied ground, dizzied from the blow.

  
“You little rat! Filth!” The knight stepped towards her again and shoved his armored boot roughly against her ribs to make her roll upon her back. He brought the same foot down upon her chest, sending the wind out of her lungs.

  
“Know you place, unbeliever! You are no better than the dirt you now lie upon, as is your whore of a mother who birthed a wretch like you.” He shoved his boot against her chest again, this time making her cry and cough from the strike.

  
Satisfied, he removed his boot from her body and spat upon the ground where she lay, before finally moving in. Coughing phlegm and blood Ahlis remained there, slowly turning onto her side as her body ached and her mind screamed. Nobody came to her aid as she weakly attempted to push herself up from the mud, sullied and wounded. The realization that the knight could have killed her if he wanted to struck hollow against her, knowing that even then none would have come to help her, as none did now.

  
The knights of Ishgard and the Coerthans who did nothing were monsters, of that she had no doubt.


	24. Standing In Line

“I’m going out, then.”

  
“Why…”

  
“Because if you can’t be bothered to have the chirurgeon summoned and you rather sit in bed all day due to that raging migraine of yours I’m going to do something about it.”

  
Ahlis moved about in the darkened bedroom where the heavy curtains had been drawn to keep both cold and light from infiltrating the room. In the bed lay Alyx’s prone body, an arm crossed over her head where her eyes lay shoved into the crook of her elbow.

  
“I’m also taking your cloak.”

 

“Again I ask, why?”

 

“Because it’s warmer than my own.”

  
“Then,” Alyx groaned lightly from where she rested in the bed. It hurt to talk, or do anything for that matter…but true to form it hardly kept her from trying. “Get your own, for pity’s sake.”

  
“I will…someday, after this run to the Crozier.”

  
With that Ahlis retrieved the fur-lined cloak from where it was hung by the door and draped it over her body, pulling the hood to cover her head and hair entirely. She carefully left the manor, stepped out into the cold Coerthan weather and briskly crossed through the Pillars.

  
She couldn’t help but draw the dark cloak closer to her body and revel in its warmth. It was large and heavy for her frame, more suited to a woman of Alyx’s proportions but Ahlis appreciated the extra room and give the woolen fabric lent to her even if it was only slight.

  
_I could do without the fur_ , though, she thought to herself as felt the soft hairs that served as the fluffy trim lightly tickled her cheeks and forehead as the wind touched them. It was a necessity in such climate, as much as she didn’t care for it; good furs could prove invaluable.

  
The Jeweled Crozier proved busy that day as she watched numerous citizens gathering about at some of the newer seasonable fare that had been erected for the sake of the oncoming holiday. Ahlis was once again reminded that Starlight would be soon upon them and yet she had nothing planned or anything to show for it yet. If she had to be honest the very idea of celebrating and gift-giving made her anxious.

  
But enough of that, she told herself: she pressed onward and ignored the growing lines of people waiting to try the season’s first sales of holiday breads and treats at the bakery as well as the crafting booths that sold and designed holiday decor for the home. The apothecary was her destination and from the looks of the storefront it hardly seem busy at all.

  
“Thank goodness for that,” Ahlis said quietly as she approached and began browsing their offerings after a brief exchange of pleasantries with a basket handed to her to hold whatever she wished to purchase from what was available.

  
It wasn’t her wish to waste time there, simply for Alyx’s sake, so she asked immediately if any tinctures or poultices were readily available. The apothecary and owner of the shop, Pienne, set about working on formulating a number of them right then and there for Ahlis, fresh and ready for use. It wasn’t difficult to wait for her items to be ready, considering all the other herbs and curiosities the storefront possessed, such as various potions and antidotes; Ahlis debated purchasing some of those as well. She was apparently so interested in determining what strength of ether draughts she ought to buy that she didn’t notice the arrival of another behind her until it was too late to prevent the gloved hand that gently grasped her shoulder without a word.

  
Ahlis whipped around in a flash, arm raised as if to strike whoever dared touch her without permission when she realized it was none other than–

  
“ _Aymeric_?”

  
The lord commander could not help but step back at Alyx’s– _no_ –Ahlis’s reaction towards him with eyes clearly widened in bewilderment at who he saw in front of him as opposed to who he expected.

  
“Forgive me,” Aymeric started to say as Ahlis lowered her hand, “I believed you to be–”

  
“Someone else. Of course…”

  
A sort of awkwardness fell between them as Ahlis quickly turned back to Pienne who, as luck would have it, managed to already finish preparing the much-needed remedies she asked for. Paying for them and forgetting to bother with any of the potions she considered before, she returned the basket and moved to go along her away.

  
“I apologize for startling you. I truly was mistaken.” Aymeric spoke once more in an attempt to better reconcile the situation between them. An act Ahlis couldn’t help but feel all the more irritated over despite her desire not to fall into a spell of agitation over the man.

  
She stopped in her steps and turned to regard him again. Aymeric took that as his cue to follow along with her as she walked.

  
“You were only half mistaken,” Ahlis said after a moment when he reached her to fall in step side by side. “This is her cloak, after all.”

  
“So it is. It has a memorable quality to it.”

  
Ahlis didn’t quite scoff at the remark but it did amuse her.

  
“What is truly interesting, to me, is that you still made such a blunder when she is clearly taller than I,” Ahlis mused aloud. “Perhaps it was your, eagerness to see her that made you commit such an oversight…”

  
There was a pause, albeit a brief one, before Aymeric spoke again.

  
“Perhaps.”

  
Ahlis allowed herself to smirk then, knowing her expression was hidden by the edge of the hood. How predictable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alyx Vance belongs to erhwrites & was written here with permission.


	25. Obsolete

It was frustrating to still find letters sent to her sitting at the Rising Stones. Although it made a measure of sense (it was still the headquarters of the Scions, after all) it spelled nothing but anxiety for Ahlis.

  
What if she had missed an important correspondence? What if…well, she had to stop herself and be honest about it: regardless if she had received them in a timely manner or no, she still loathed to write replies despite how necessary they could be.

  
Within the small stack of letters one certainly caught her eye as it came with a multitude of markings stating it had come from across the sea. Then the name struck her: the letter had come from Tataru, from all the way to Kugane.

  
Ahlis opened the letter and unfolded the parchment, attention now solely on the letter. She read it once from beginning to end quickly, and then read it again one more time and much more slowly. Everything was all well and good in Kugane, apparently, and yet…

  
“What does she mean ‘send word to Cid or Nero for a new teapot, the old no longer works’…?” Ahlis blinked, a touch confused. And why was this sent to _her_?

  
_Mayhap she believes she’ll receive it sooner if the request comes from me_ , Ahlis thought to herself. Oh, well. It couldn’t be helped.

  
“To Rhalgr’s Reach then,” she said to herself, her new mission set before her. Tataru needed her tea, after all, and Ahlis would be remiss in not heeding the industrious lalafell’s demands. 


	26. Sacred

She carefully squeezed herself between the fallen apart masonry, a woven spell of glowing aether in her hand, as she traversed the old ruins deep within the mountains surrounding the Lochs.

  
In the aftermath of Ala Mhigo’s liberation Ahlis had taken it upon herself to do a measure of exploration whenever she could. The last time she had done so she had inadvertently crossed over from the realm of the living into that of the fitful and walking dead; it was without a doubt a very disconcerting time.

  
This excursion, however, she made sure to remain _above_ ground as she entered a clearing with an open sky above her. The roof of whatever structure she had entered had caved in–or mayhap it was been built that way–and patches of grass and wildflowers had taken root in the broken stone floor. There was part of a crumbled center platform and what may have looked to have been a walkway leading towards it, but the elements had not been kind to the ruins. Much of what looked to be whitewash against the stones had been stripped away from the weathered sandstone. Iron stain trails went down all along the walls to the floor and the wildflowers grew happy and undisturbed.

  
What had been in such a place had not been seen and certainly not tended to in a very long time. Ahlis felt the silence of the place seep into her body, like an overwhelming presence. Perhaps this had been a kind of hidden away pilgrimage site? The numerous steps leading to it reminded her of the Divine Audience, as dilapidated and broken as it was.

  
It was as good a guess as any, considering how many of such ruins and destroyed relics, statues and the like littered the region. If this had been a sanctuary, a place of holiness and sacred ground, not much remained to show it. But the wind from above was pleasant and the shade in the far corners of the walls was a respite from the sun. Ahlis took a collapsed stone to sit against and rested her feet, solitary and reverent of the peace the quiet broken room brought.


	27. Foot in Mouth

“Give it back, Thancred.”

  
“You don’t wish to hear my apt commentary on your admirer’s skill?”

  
“You started mocking it from the very first line!”

  
“Not so! True mockery would be scathing and well-deserved. This barely even qualifies.”

  
The letter in his hands was carried along as Thancred deftly avoided and dodged Ahlis’s hounding as she followed him around the tables that occupied the front of the Rising Stones’ lounging area. She had been reading her letters outside of her room, like the fool she was, when he came along and became curious. He just so happened to catch her while reading a correspondence from a fan-of-sorts; Thancred immediately pounced on the opportunity to learn more about her fanciful enthusiasts.

  
Thancred sighed, his amusement mostly spent, and turned as if to finally give back said letter when Ahlis snatched it roughly from his grasp, crumpling it.

  
“Don’t you think you deserve something better written in your name? By a master of the pen?”

  
“Like the sort of thing you put to parchment? Like that garbage of a book you recommended to me that goes on and on about whispers in the dark and using pretentious metaphors about the moon and other such nonsense? I’d rather eat hard tack for the rest of my life.”

  
“Oh, so you did read it.”

  
Ahlis stopped and huffed, her mouth slightly agape.

  
“I did not.”

  
“Ah, but I know exactly which poem and page you’re referring to. Page fifty-seven: ‘With the moon as our witness let us have our communion of love, to declare my great love for you–’”

  
“ _Enough_!”

  
She could feel her skin prickling with warmth, a sign that she would be turning red at any moment. Ahlis dared not stay a moment longer as she stomped back to her room, all the while hearing Thancred as he ‘serenaded’ the rest of the verse. She swore he was yelling it louder and louder the further she moved away to the point where she clamped her hands over her ears, skipping the last set of stairs up to her room before slamming the door shut behind her. By then her face was quite pink, either by embarrassment or rage could be anyone’s guess. It was probably both.

  
Ahlis swore that would be the last time she ever read her mail in public.


	28. Rivalry

“Let us step outside, milady. In here, your toys may hurt someone.”

  
They wasted no time sprinting after him. Ahlis couldn’t believe how far sideways things had turned now that she, Hilda and Alphinaud now found themselves face to face with none other than one of the members of the Heavens’ Ward.

  
Ser Charibert. She could feel the aether beginning to emanate from him in a familiar way that her own spellwork pulled from own being. He wasn’t alone either, chirurgeons and temple knights flanked him. But Ahlis could not help her focus to be altogether on him and that insufferable glare of contempt within his eyes.

  
“If it’s a fight you want, then come and get it!”

  
Hilda was the first to strike, Alphinaud quickly falling in stride with her as they engaged Ser Charibert and his fodder. Ahlis watched in full clarify how he wielded his staff and began to channel his aether into fire-aspected magic. She knew this spell. it was…

  
“My, such fury! Patience, my queen. We’ve only just begun.”

  
Ahlis grabbed the both of them and yanked them out of the line of fire just as Ser Charibert finished his incantation of his spell, the heat from the large spherical explosion hot on her back as they barely missed being incinerated. But only just. The stone below where their feet had just been smoldered with the energy the spell had impacted upon them.

  
_That was Flare_ , she found herself saying in her mind as she whipped her eyes back to the man who was casting yet another spell out of his repertoire. It would be some time before he’d use something of that magnitude again, but to think he had such a spell under his command…!

  
“Defend Ser Charibert! Kill the rebels!”

  
The other knights were soon upon them and Ahlis released her companions to continue the fight. They had to deal with them before anything else! Hilda and Alphinaud wasted no time in engaging the temple knights as Ahlis fought to keep her ward up against the assault of spells Charibert unleashed upon her, knowing each one as her own spells clashed against his in an attempt to nullify them. Fire and ice, electric crackles of lightning snapping against shields of warding. There was danger in every woven incantation of aether, every spell made manifest between them.

  
Ahlis was sweating with fear; she also dared to feel a small measure of elation. When was the last time she faced off toe-to-toe with another experienced thaumaturgist, let alone a black mage? She wanted to laugh at the irony and hypocrisy of it all: since when did the Heavens’ Ward allowed such magic into the fold?

  
Her heart throbbed in her chest fiercely. She could feel it all the way to her ears as the adrenaline began to make her arm shake from exertion. To defeat this man, to crush him utterly…it would be her pleasure.

  
“Damn! Is there no end to them?” Hilda cried as the temple knight before her crumpled to the ground only to see more join the fight.

  
The bodies were beginning to mount and yet Ser Charibert paid no mind as even one of the knights that approached begged him to relent. His men were falling like flies.

  
“It seems you are beyond reason. How marvelous…” Charibert spoke.

  
The man was uncaring that the fire and ice from his incantations inadvertently caught his own defenders within it. He wished only to make those wretches who dared defy them suffer. He would see them crawl and burn!

  
“You disgust me!”

  
Ahlis was unable to halt the next of Charibert’s spells from being cast and it sent her reeling, the manaward she had summoned to protect herself shattering. It was to be expected, after being so close to yet another spell of Flare’s magnitude. She grit her teeth and steeled herself again, bringing her own staff up to bear once more.

  
_It’s not over!_

  
“Stop this, all of you! This is madness! Why are you fighting!?”

  
The familiar voice made her gaze snap away from the fight as she watched none other than Haurchefant himself, dressed for battle with shield raised, enter the fray. She was struck dumb at the sight of him; how had he known…?

  
“Lord Haurchefant! Over here!” Alphinaud called out.

  
“Hmph. How fitting. The noble bastard the mongrel bitch.” Charibert spat out, clearly unimpressed with Haurchefant’s arrival.

  
“This mongrel bitch is going to put a bullet between your eyes!” Hilda snapped back, firing another relay of bullets at the temple knight fodder that continuous came for them. If only she could spare a moment to aim for him…!

  
The fight continued on but now with Haurchefant at their side the tide was turning, his sword and shield pressing hard against Ser Charibert’s defenses.

  
“Filthy rats!” Ser Charibert growled between gritted teeth, knowing he was losing ground quickly.

  
With each defeat of the fodder of knights he had summoned along with him Ahlis could feel the group’s resolve strengthen even further. After the last knight’s fall she knew it was almost over, a spell of ice and frost to manacle him down into his own defeat was channeling into her staff–until, that is, Ser Charibert separated himself from the front line he had set for himself and launched himself back with an almost inhumane leap.

  
Lifting himself up from his crouch he regarded Ahlis with a cool, begrudging stare.

  
“There’s no denying your gifts…A well deserved reputation indeed.”

  
The sound of faraway footsteps and the voice of another to join the group could be heard. It was Lucia.

  
“ _Enough_!”

  
“Hmph.” Charibert’s derision at the first commander’s arrival was apparent.

  
Lucia sprinted towards them, her target quite evident, and leaped with blade drawn. It was in vain however, for her attack was too slow to catch him as Ser Charibert retreated even further atop of the rooftops with skill that Ahlis hadn’t seen before except for one other.

  
Her eyes narrowed at the man who now stood above them all and out of their reach. _Damn…_

  
As if in a mockery Ser Charibert bowed before them, the signal of his retreat. Hilda drew her weapon and fired another volley of bullets, only to miss entirely as the man disappeared from sight entirely, scaling the buildings beyond.

  
“Ugh! Lucky bastard…” Hilda spat, the anger at not having gotten him ripe in her voice.

  
Lucky, indeed. It would seem their rivalry, and their next confrontation, would have to wait.


	29. Prophecy

“What say you about the weather for today?”

  
“Hum…it’s looking like fair skies over Limsa Lominsa until the evening, then we’ll have more foggy weather roll in from the bay.”

  
Ahlis made a noncommittal ‘hm’ at the skywatcher that was stationed in the Octant before going on her way. It was almost always the same forecast in the city, day in and day out. Could the weather of La Noscea truly be so predictable?

  
She supposed it made sense given that time of year. Fog in the evenings made for cooler weather; she would have to make extra sure she brought in enough kindling and wood for her stove for heat. She could hear the chuckling of the apartment caretaker now: nobody else hauled up so much wood to burn than she did.

  
It was obviously a joke; truly she couldn’t have been the sole person with a flat that felt cold! She was just more…susceptible to it, that’s all.

  
She would purchase more wood at the Hawker’s Alley, and pull out extra blankets if that proved futile. It would be another cold night in the city, if the skywatcher’s reckoning was proof.


	30. Frost

Ahlis did not hesitate for a moment in entering the intercessory to escape the frigid cold. She could barely feel anything in her hands, her feet, or the tip of her nose. Clumps of snow left her bundled up body as she made a straight path towards the end of the room that was brimming with the light and heat of a perfectly burning fireplace.

  
“Come back, my friend, and relieve yourself of your trappings. They must be heavy with cold!”

  
Lord Haurchefant, not more than a few steps behind her, watched with a kind of confused wonder at why Ahlis had not bothered to remove anything that she wore as she slumped herself before the fire, struggling to remove her gloves so that she could painfully flex her fingers in warmth. She could not remain there as such, with cold weather gear still covered in frost that would eventually melt away creating a dampness that would only exasperate her condition.

  
Seeing that she would not heed a word he said, Haurchefant left Ahlis to her devices–if only for a moment–and retrieved what he knew would work best. Hot chocolate, a spare blanket, and himself for the Warrior of Light’s perusal, naturally!

  
By the time he had returned Ahlis was sniffling to herself and he could feel his heart sink. She must have felt miserable, Haurchefant thought to himself; well, this was his moment to help her as best as he was able. His duty as the commander of Dragonhead, but most importantly as her friend, demanded it.

  
“The weather we have in Coerthas is unforgivable,” he spoke to her, cups in hand. “Allow me a moment to try and remind you of something a bit warmer, aye?”

  
Ahlis looked up from where she had been staring, hands clasped and rubbing together as she still sought to warm them. Her eyes looked achingly tired, the chill of the wind and ice seemingly having gone straight into her bones.

  
“What in the hells are you talking about?”

  
Haurchefant smiled and opened his arms; the blanket he managed to find was draped over an elbow, the cups of hot chocolate visibly steaming in front of them. Ahlis’s lips, chapped from the cold, opened as if to reply–maybe in protest or to say she just wanted to be left alone–but she sighed instead, the tiniest of smiles gracing her face.

  
Slowly the layers were removed. The cloak and the scarf, everything until she was back in just her traveling robes and woolen stockings and pants. They sat side by side in front of the blazing fireplace, each with their own cup of hot chocolate, and bundled within the blanket. He took it upon himself to act as an extra buffer of warmth, given how poorly she felt after returning, and Ahlis did not resist despite her initial misgivings.

  
What if others see them together, away from his post and dawdling with her instead? Haurchefant paid no mind to her insistence that if his duty required him to be present then he ought to abide.

  
“What are a few moments by the fire? I can spare this, and my men can as well,” he said to reassure her with a smile. In this moment this is what concerned him most and what precious little he could spare for time was hers.

  
“I remember before all of this,” Ahlis spoke eventually, her eyes forward upon the fire. Her cup had been set aside, emptied of its warmth. “When all of Coerthas was still green and beautiful.”

  
“Do you?” Haurchefant asked, his curiosity genuine. He knew very little of her past and the thought that she had been to his homeland, years prior to that moment, that they had once been mere malms apart struck him.

  
“Aye. My mother and myself, and a number of fellow Ala Mhigans, went north after entering in the Shroud. They did not grant us refuge despite us being mostly women and children.”

  
He did not know what to say at that moment. Ahlis being Ala Mhigan had not ever crossed his mind; she had never mentioned it before as well. Why would she? Not many cared for her ilk, did they? That fact of the matter stuck with him a little sorely, realizing its truth.

  
“The lowlands wouldn’t have been a poor place to stay and live. It wasn’t easy but there were plenty of places to camp, to hunt and find food. It felt so open in many places, from what I remember of it, at least…”

  
“Did you not remain for long? If memory serves me well the lowlands were quite favorable for ranching and farmland.”

  
Ahlis did not respond right away. It was as if a sort of hesitation had caught her and he could not help but sense something was amiss. The fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the quiet between them.

  
“We did stay for a few years, and all seemed well enough,” Ahlis’s voice seemed to grow distant as she spoke but she sighed and lowered her chin a touch. She had become despondent, her eyes narrowing. “Then my mother died. Like all good things tended to do in those days.”

  
Haurchefant’s expression immediately shifted to that of regret. He had not wished to make his friend relive such memories, it had not been his intent. Yet now he questioned what good he could offer her, if all he managed was to make her feel so morose.

  
“Forgive my intrusiveness, it was not my wish to cause you further distress.”

  
Ahlis turned her face to look upon him and what he saw in her eyes was a growing fierceness he hadn’t thought to expect at such a moment. When he believed her to be taken in to her sadness she instead bit back with her anger and fury.

  
“No one helped me. I traveled across the lowlands, all the way to Owl’s Nest for aid. Not one Coerthan, or Ishgardian knight, wanted to help find the mother of some little girl, the unbeliever and barbarian that she was.”

  
Her words hurt. They stung Haurchefant with a sense of shame he had not felt before, least of all with her. Ahlis could be prickly at times and, Halone help him, a little moody as well. But this was unlike anything before it. What could he say? It was like an invisible vice had taken hold of his throat.

  
Haurchefant reached for her hands and cupped them in his own. Somehow they still felt chilled, as if the wintry cold wouldn’t ever leave her fingers, and without a word he breathed upon them as his hands rubbed to soothe and warm her own. Ahlis gasped inaudibly at the gesture and instinct pushed her to pull away from his grasp, yet she remained, watching him.

  
“Cruelty has no place in a knight’s heart, nor in his duty. You did not deserve to suffer so,” Haurchefant spoke finally after looking up from their clasped hands. “I may not be able to do much about the past, my friend, but I do wish to help you reconsider such matters in your own heart.”

  
He gave her hands a small encouraging squeeze, his expression now earnest and hopeful. Ahlis searched his eyes and his face, his wish made apparent. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. Could there truly be any other Ishgardian as exceptional as he?

  
“Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this work to all my friends in the XIV community for commenting, liking and sharing my work. I especially wish to thank Em/erhwrites for encouraging me in all my writing endeavors as well as for being my friend. Thank you!


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